Chapter Text
~
1
~
Prologue
~
Obi-Wan was thirteen years old when a whisper in the night tore apart everything he thought to know about the Jedi Order.
He’d always known there were differences between the beings in the galaxy, differences beyond looks and culture and languages. It was something you didn’t need to get explained; it was ingrained in your very being, a part of the world as natural as the stars in the sky.
The vague feeling changed into more concrete knowledge as Obi-Wan grew older and more curious, ready to ask and get answers. He learned there were not only males and females; there were other, more important labels: alphas, betas, and omegas.
Only omegas could carry children. The first thing Obi-Wan noticed about them was their soft, flowery smell that made his nose tingle. They were gentle and friendly, always ready to help, or maybe those were just the omegas he’d met. He could count the ones he’d met on one hand. There are no omegas among the Jedi, they told them in biology class. Usually, Force-sensitive beings presented as betas or alphas, disproportionally to the general population of the galaxy.
Frankly, Obi-Wan had been relieved at hearing that. He didn’t like the way they were talking about omegas, with this snobby, dismissive tone, as if they were inferior in some way, or maybe just not as important. He didn’t feel like he would want to be an omega.
Alphas, well, they were another thing altogether. Some of the best Jedi at the temple – Qui-Gon Jinn, Mace Windu, Plo Koon, Dooku - were alphas, that much he had gathered. Alphas were strong and skillful fighters, wise guardians and protectors. Every youngling at the Temple wanted to be an alpha growing up and it wasn’t difficult to see why.
While there were many more betas and a few extraordinary Jedi among them, such as Master Yoda himself, the alpha Jedi all excelled in some way or another. It was easy to think you just needed to present as an alpha and the wisdom, experience, and skill would come with it as a logical consequence, just as day came after night.
As they often frequented the Temple, Obi-Wan knew much more about alphas. They smelled differently, the polar opposite of omegas. It was a strong, slightly unpleasant and yet highly intriguing scent, musk and earth and something that made him turn his head at whatever alpha was passing by, that installed a strange restlessness in him for a few heartbeats. There was something about them that demanded respect.
Who didn’t present as either an alpha or an omega was a beta. Those were the normal ones, the boring ones, or so the other younglings were saying. They didn’t have a certain smell or any other characteristic features. But maybe that wasn’t so bad – it sounded better than whatever those omegas had.
Obi-Wan liked to think he knew much about the subject. However, the truth was he didn’t know what those labels meant, how much power they held over your life, at least not until that fateful night shortly after he become Qui-Gon’s Padawan. It was the night he learnt what happened to the Padawans who, against all odds, presented as omegas.
He couldn’t sleep, was still too excited from the events of the day. When you became a Padawan, every corner of the Temple was glowing in a new light and every path was leading to a new adventure. His first real mission was a bonfire in his mind; the pictures of the last days popped up in his mind like a never-ending holovid.
After turning around for the fourth time without being able to fall asleep, Obi-Wan got up to go outside to meditate, or maybe take a few deep breaths of fresh air.
It was when he crossed one of the dimly lit hallways that he noticed voices coming from behind the next corner. He froze on the spot, frowning, until curiosity got the better of him and he leaned forward to take a glimpse.
“... don’t know w-what’s happening,” a Twi’lek girl he didn’t know whimpered with a shaky voice. He made out her Padawan braid; she couldn’t be much older than him. Her blue skin was glistening in the moonlight, if of sweat or tears Obi-Wan couldn’t say. There was an older, male Jedi with her, though he was standing in the shadows and it was impossible to tell who he was. That was until he spoke.
“I know,” Qui-Gon Jinn said with his warm, understanding voice, and Obi-Wan wondered how he couldn’t have noticed his familiar presence in the Force. Maybe it was because of the smell, he mused, resisting the urge to rub his nose. It was thick in this hallway, flowery and sweet, too sweet, almost rotten. He grimaced, trying not to gag, until he remembered that this smell had a familiar note after all, that he knew it. Only that it was now that much stronger. It was an omega’s scent.
Huh, he thought. She must be pretty special. After all, there were no omegas in the Order. That was probably why she was confused – they didn’t really learn what it meant to be an omega here. Obi-Wan wondered what she was going through, regretting he hadn’t paid more attention to his classes. He would have liked to help her, to console her.
“It isn’t dangerous,” Qui-Gon continued. “It’s a natural evolution of your body… You don’t need to be afraid. Take a few deep breaths... yeah, like that... that’s good, all right. You’ll be fine.”
The rustling of clothes, then his Master’s voice again.
“Here, take this. It’ll help suspend what’s called a heat for a day or two until you know how to get through it.”
“Thank you, Master,” the girl said, still out of breath. “I... I think I should go back to sleep.”
Obi-Wan felt his stomach twist. Something changed, like rain clouds arising to cover the sky, and maybe it was the Force warning him. Something urged him to run, to run and never look back. He was frozen, though, unable to avert his gaze, let alone walk away.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible, young one,” Qui-Gon said. “You’ll have to come with me… Your place isn’t with the Order anymore. You have to leave.”
“W-what?” The girl was sobbing once more, fear and shock all too obvious in her voice. Obi-Wan felt his heart clench as her feelings unfurled in the Force like a hurricane. “I... I don’t understand. D-did-did I do anything wrong?! W-why... w-why...”
Qui-Gon sighed and he sounded more exhausted than he’d ever had before. “No, you didn’t. It’s... well, it’s better this way. Trust me. I’ll explain everything, I promise you that… Now, please follow me...”
Obi-Wan didn’t need to hear more. He almost stumbled over his own feet trying to get back to his room as quickly as possible. He didn’t feel like going outside anymore but he also knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, maybe even less than before.
Now he knew why there were no omegas in the Order. They weren’t allowed. They were cast away as soon as they presented, just as this poor girl. Obi-Wan swallowed hard, a pang of irrational fear running through him. There was no place for omegas here, it seemed.
The next day, after a short period of nightmares and a long period of struggling to find answers to question that didn’t have any, Qui-Gon wanted to talk with him in private. Obi-Wan realized what an utter fool he’d been.
“I noticed you were up late last night…,” his Master began, only to let the silence speak for itself. Obi-Wan could feel his cheeks heat up with the speed of a hyperdrive engine. Qui-Gon didn’t need to say any more. Obi-Wan wanted to bury his face in a pillow, or his hands at least, and he clenched them to keep them still. Of course his Master had felt him standing there in the Force - his shock must have been like a beacon in the night, even next to the girl’s even greater one.
Obi-Wan grimaced, resisting the urge to rub his neck. He didn’t try to deny it, that would have been even more ridiculous. Instead, he opened his trembling lips and spoke, looking everywhere but at Qui-Gon.
“Why... why did she have to leave the Order, Master? Is it really that bad to be an omega?”
Qui-Gon was silent for a long while and Obi-Wan held his breath while he waited, his heart thumping in his ears. The wind was blowing through his short air with the gentleness of a feather’s touch. Finally, there was a sigh.
“You’re really young, Obi-Wan. You shouldn’t have seen this but I understand you have questions and I will try to answer them.”
There was a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently, and Obi-Wan allowed himself to look up again. Qui-Gon’s gaze was distant, the lines of his face somewhat more tense than usual.
“You probably know a couple consisting of an alpha and an omega is different than, let’s say two betas... When an alpha and an omega... decide to be together, they form a bond that only grows stronger. This bond is useful; it helps the alpha keep their omega safe… it can help find them, connects the two of them on a much more... intimate level than the Force. It helps them support each other. You can think of it as a ribbon tying them together.”
Or a chain, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but think, shuddering. He cleared his throat. “All right, but I still don’t understand why the omega girl has to leave because of that. She doesn’t have to be bound to anyone, does she? And even if she does, it wouldn’t keep her from fighting… It shouldn’t keep her from becoming a Jedi.”
“She could fight, yes. But she would be at a much greater risk. Omegas aren’t supposed to fight; they bear children. They’re the only ones who can. It’s… healthy for them to find a bond mate. Omegas without a mate usually die in their middle age… and it’s also riskier for their alphas. Imagine them fighting together – the alpha would constantly worry about their omega, unable to reach their full potential.” Qui-Gon offered a smile but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Let me assure you the majority of omegas who leave the Order don’t regret it when they’re older.”
A cold shiver ran down Obi-Wan’s spine. What about the ones that do? he thought, though he couldn’t bring himself to say the words out loud. Qui-Gon gave a sigh, just the same as the night before.
“At least that’s what I’m supposed to tell you,” he murmured. “To be honest, I believe there should be a better solution to this problem. Things aren’t only black or white, Padawan, don’t forget that… Still, as long as the Council and our society don’t change their minds about the matter, Padawans and Jedi who present as omegas have to leave the Order. You shouldn’t worry about it now. You’ll only present in a couple of years; don’t beat yourself up about it.”
Obi-Wan nodded even though his stomach was still churning. At least his Master was against it in theory. He didn’t know what he would have done if Qui-Gon had told him he didn’t see a problem in forcing Padawans to leave the Order for such a ridiculous reason.
“Well, do you have any more question?”
Obi-Wan moved to shake his head until a thought popped up in his mind and made him open his mouth once more.
“I thought Jedi aren’t allowed to form attachments… If this bond is healthy… why is it forbidden?”
An amused sparkle appeared in Qui-Gon’s eyes.
“It isn’t, at least not entirely,” he said. “The Council would lose half of their best Jedi if they denied them their mates. If you’re an alpha, you’re allowed to take an omega as a mate. The omegas you met, the ones you might have seen at the Temple, they’re the mates of Jedi. They don’t want you Padawans to get the wrong ideas, that’s why this rule isn’t more well-known. They probably don’t like me telling you that either.”
He chuckled to himself but Obi-Wan couldn’t quite bring himself to join him.
That day he went to bed wishing there were no alphas, omegas, or betas. He’d always thought he, as a Force-sensitive being, could only be one of two things, preferably an alpha to be like his great Master. He wouldn’t be ashamed to be a beta either.
Now, however, after seeing that Twi’lek, after talking with Qui-Gon, the looming threat that he might be an omega after all overcame him like a storm and stripped away every one of his shields, keeping him twisting and turning at night, his eyes wide and terrified. He didn’t want to leave the Order and the idea of walking away from it only to bear children for someone he might not even like and didn’t know yet made him feel ill. There was nothing good about the idea. He didn’t even want to have children.
Qui-Gon was wrong. There was no comfort in knowing he might have a few more years until he presented because every moment of not-knowing was torture. He felt like a Kod’yok waiting to be freed or slaughtered. Each day brought him closer to the day he might present; each day increased the anxiety pooling in his stomach whenever he didn’t manage to will it away by meditating. It was a flood that couldn’t be stopped.
When Obi-Wan did present, it was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because he didn’t have to think about the sword of Damocles dangling above his head anymore. A curse because the sword was already cutting his head straight off his shoulders.
Obi-Wan was almost eighteen years old when he presented as an omega. He had read enough books about the matter to know the symptoms and yet he still found himself trying to rationalize them away, simply because his mind was unwilling to accept this reality.
Though, when he felt the third wave of arousal sending tinging shivers through his body, a hazy fog clouding his mind, he couldn’t deny it anymore. Maybe he’d always known, ever since that night with the Twi’lek girl. It was hard to breathe and the floor seemed to dissolve beneath his feet, but as a Jedi Knight to be he’d learned to stay calm, even in situations in which he might rather break down. It was lucky he’d only presented this late. Maybe he wouldn’t have been able to save himself otherwise.
He knew he had to think fast. If he went out, everyone would smell the omega inside of him and they would know. They would frown upon him and they wouldn’t hesitate to send him away, forcing him to leave behind the only family he’d ever known to find a mate and live an unhappy, child-bearing life, and he knew there was no way he could let that happen. He’d already made that decision five years ago. He would rather die.
That was why he, fighting back tears brought up by his sensitized state, deeply ashamed but determined just as much, called the only person that might be able to help him. The only person he could bear to see.
To say Qui-Gon Jinn was surprised was an understatement. Maybe he’d just closed his eyes before the truth because he couldn’t believe his gifted Padawan might not be destined to be a Jedi. Maybe he’d wanted this to happen just as little as Obi-Wan himself.
He didn’t have much hope – after all, he’d witnessed his Master sending away a Padawan first-hand. However, he also remembered their talk and he knew Qui-Gon was having doubts about the matter. Maybe, just maybe, he could use that in his favor. He had to try at least. If he didn’t try, his life would be doomed anyway. It was his only hope.
“I won’t leave the Order,” Obi-Wan rasped, pressed into a corner of the room, arms slung around his knees as he tried to withstand what his body was urging him to do.
Qui-Gon’s scent, an alpha’s scent, seemed to engulf him like a sea, asking him to take a dive, but he knew he would drown if he dared to do so. He couldn’t give in to the ache; he was stronger than that. He was a Jedi, that was his destiny, he knew that and he was holding on to that thought and was somehow able to speak.
“Y-you have to help me. There must be something I can do. I don’t care if I die young... I could die in a battle just as well. I don’t want to find a mate o-or… anything like that. You know me. Don’t you think I deserve to have a say in this matter?”
Qui-Gon sighed in a groaning, almost angry way. He pinched the bridge of his nose and Obi-Wan thought he’d never seen that much anguish in his Master’s face.
“There’s... something you can do.”
He didn’t leave the Order, against all odds.
Qui-Gon was the one to get him the pills, one before he went to sleep and a second one after he woke up for the rest of his life. It was a small price to pay for a free life, Obi-Wan thought. They were suppressants, meant to stop him from going into heat and to mask his scent.
They told everyone he was a beta and nobody asked second questions even if they might find the shadows beneath Obi-Wan’s eyes suspicious. Obi-Wan couldn’t have been more grateful. He learned to smile and relax again. Every day was a gift because he knew he could have ended up on the streets, exploited and degraded, just as well. He always bought the small package of pills in advance, sometimes asking Qui-Gon to do so to avoid drawing attention to himself. He always used the Force to make the vendors forget about him.
After his Master’s death Obi-Wan was even more determined to make him proud, and he thought he could. He thought there was nothing standing in his way anymore. He killed a Sith and got knighted, praised by the same Jedi that would have condemned him if they had known the truth.
Anakin Skywalker became first his Padawan and then his best friend, and the older he grew the less suspicious everyone around him was, the less he thought about his faked biology. The pill was a part of his life, part of his daily routine, and often he didn’t even have to consciously remind himself to take it. He hadn’t had nights of panic and anxiety in years. After all, everything had worked out so far. Why would that suddenly change?
The only day Obi-Wan let down his guard was the day that plunged everything into ruin, leaving only burning remains.
~